Page 140 of The Life-Changing Magic of Falling in Love

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An hour later, who knew renting a tandem to explore the island would be key to breaking the stilted carefulness we’d adopted on leaving the apartment? But from the moment Ashleigh looked up from the map she’d been studying, clocked me wheeling it towards her and said, ‘You’re not seriously asking me to mount that beast?’ and I’d waggled my eyebrows and replied, ‘Just grab onto me tight and enjoy the ride of your life,’ and the delightfully dirty laugh had fallen from her mouth, the spell had been broken.

We’ve spent the morning leaning a little into audio-guide geekery with a look around Fort Jay and Castle Williams before discovering the architecture of the original nineteenth century military officers’ houses.

But now, as I watch her, looking not out at the incredible view of the Statue of Liberty in the distance, but instead, the people enjoying the open space of the Hills, I can sense a new quietness, a trepidation, and at the risk of spoiling what we’d recovered, I ask, ‘So what are you doing tonight?’ Because what it comes down to, as I sit on the picnic blanket with her, the remnants of a feast from Oscars laid out between us, is that I’m not willing to give this up.

This exploring New York City with Ashleigh.

This exploring what Ashleigh and I have.

Whatever it is between us may have got confused since the wedding but there’s something and a plane ride back to the UK is a long journey to regret not fighting for it.

I catch the unguarded flash of indecision in her eyes before she masks it with a, ‘Huh?’

‘Tonight?’ I probe. ‘Sunset? You said you needed to be back so I figured you had a date. That maybe Carlos and Oz had procured?—’

‘Procured?’ She raises an eyebrow in warning.

‘Arranged another date for you?’

She seems more fascinated in a couple throwing a Frisbee back and forth than looking at me as she murmurs, ‘I don’t have another wedding to go to until next year now, so there’s no urgency to find another date.’

I remember the bake-date trial and her telling me about why she started going on dates in the first place. That it was more for company than forming a connection. ‘So, you’re not looking for a relationship right now?’ I guess the plane ride is long enough to lick my wounds instead.

‘Although maybe I should go on more dates,’ Ashleigh suddenly asserts. ‘Keep expanding my social life. Make some more friends. Did I tell you I’m going for a drink with one of the nurses at the hospital where I volunteer read? She knew Sarah so that’s a nice connection.’

‘And then there’s me,’ I say, because our connection is surely deeper than an understanding of loneliness – mine from when I was younger and hers after Sarah died.

‘You?’

‘Are we not friends?’

‘Of course.’

‘So why have you been distancing yourself?’

‘I haven’t.’

‘Something’s changed since the wedding.’

‘You’re imagining it.’

‘Why did you get so panicked when Mrs. Lundy mentioned romance?’

She starts clearing away the picnic and I’m all for observing outside eating rules but when she starts folding and refolding the napkins like she’s in some sort of origami competition before squaring everything back in the hamper like it’s on military parade I realise she’s cleaning for a reason. I just wish I knew the reason. ‘Ashleigh?—’

‘Oh,’ she suddenly says, withdrawing a book from the hamper, ‘you bought crosswords?’

Distracted for a second, I glance down at the book. Yes, I bought crosswords. I thought it would be romantic. Sitting somewhere with a view. Fantastic company and some word games – different to the one we seem to be playing right now.

I lay my hand over hers, look her in the eye, and say, ‘I don’t want to do a crossword right now. I want us to talk.’

‘Talk?’

‘About what has you so spooked around me.’

Ashleigh stares at me for a while and I think, okay, here it comes, she’s going to explain and I brace, but then she looks away and says, ‘I spoke to my boss, Rhonda, earlier this week.’

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